Agent E
by spinshivers
Summary: Elliot, before and after his time in Amity Park. A collection of related one-shots.
1. Introduction

hello! this set of writing explores elliot's character, a boy we see in only one episode, but he's shown to be a player, a liar and an all-around rather unlikable individual. yet, he's also an individual who gets mistaken for danny phantom by the government, and that's got potential for development that we didn't see in canon. this one shot collection will be loosely interconnected, and will be updated as i discover more about elliot along the way. meanwhile, i hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)

* * *

He slid a palm along the firm flesh above her hips and pressed his legs against hers, crowding her close against the wall, but he cupped the back of her neck with a gentle hand, keeping his lips on hers slow, tender. Girls like her loved being treasured. True to her nature, she gripped his arms and deepened their kiss, arching her chest into his.

In their proximity, the warmth of her body permeated through her fitting clothes, the rosy scent of her hair filling his lungs and her breathing figure slotting comfortably into his arms.

It was heavenly. _The Valentine's gift paid off_, a distracted part of him thought, his hand exploring the curves of her waist. _Worth every dollar, that dumb bouquet-_

The girl pulled away, slender fingers digging into his forearms surprisingly tightly, like blunt little claws.

"Hey," he murmured, thumb stroking her jaw as he leaned back in.

"Wait," she said. Her dark eyes watched him. "We're going a bit fast, I think."

Parting his hands from her skin, he took a step back. Her shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head. "I thought we weren't." When she pursed her gloss-smeared lips, he took her hands in his and said, sincerely, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but really, I thought we weren't."

A humph escaped her. "You know," she said, voice stilted, though she stayed where she was, "some people warned me about you."

That threw him for a loop. "What? Who?"

"Elliot Gregory," she continued, her tone sharper than before, "watch out for him. He gets around plenty."

A quick review of his memory of their past week together told him nothing about what he might have done, what could have brought this on. "I don't know why they said-"

"Weird." She slid out from between him and the wall, tugging herself out of his grasp. His fingers curled in the sudden chill of the classroom. "The first thing you asked was _who._"

No defense leapt to his mind.

"Are you sure you don't know why they're saying all these things about you?" she asked. There was a bite to her statement, though he could no longer tell if they were meant to be sarcastic.

"'course not," he said instead, but when her thin brows furrowed he knew he had been too hasty. "Listen, babe. I like you. I like you a lot." No response. He tried again, the words tumbling out from between his lips before he could give them thought. "Whatever the others say, I'm better than that, I promise."

"Wow."

_Christ_. "What?"

"I saw into your ex the other day."

His mind whirred with the different scenarios. _Which one?_ he didn't say. _How do you know her?_

"I talked to her. She told me that you-" A glare. "-told her the exact same thing."

"She talks about people behind my back," he said. _Linda, I bet. Or Jamaica?_ He realized it didn't matter. "I know her."

Contrary to what he had hoped, the girl's shoulders slumped and she breathed as if it was difficult for her to do so, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "I can't believe it. I really wanted you to be different. I thought-" She heaved a sigh, wiping at her mouth harshly. "I don't know. But the more time I spend around you, I'm… I'm just not feeling this anymore, okay?"

"Wait, babe-" he started, but she had already turned away, long legs taking her across the classroom towards the door. Once she slipped out, it shut with a bang and a shake to its frame, and the silver of light that had spilled from the hallway disappeared. It left him in the dark.

"Man, what a pain." He slumped against the wall, glad for its solidity against his back. Where had things gone wrong? Bumping into one of his ex-girlfriends had tipped her off, and he realized not only had he read her wrong, but he hadn't planned this well at all.

_Next time,_ he thought.

—

The following week, he caught sight of the girl in the cafeteria out of the corners of his eyes. Sitting with her friends at a table, their heads turned towards him, though what expressions they wore- he couldn't give a damn.

Clinging to his arm, a pretty freshman craned her neck to steal a glance at the girls. "That the crazy ex you were talking about?"

"Yeah. Hey, wanna come over to my place today?"

Her skin, on his, was warm.


	2. Push

The freshman left him.

Now that she was gone, her absence didn't bother him, but the way it had ended was irritating.

He should've known Clarisse wouldn't mind her own business. Snooping around with one of his exes, talking to his new girl behind his back, whispering rumors that planted doubts into her mind. The relationship lasted longer this time - four months - because this round he had picked her more intelligently.

Alicia, a student who walked to classes with hunched shoulders, who sat alone in the school courtyard during lunch, who wanted help with her work but was too shy to ask. She was pretty, a beautiful wallflower who seemed eager to please, and this was the extra push he had needed to walk right up, drop an offer for tutoring and pluck her off her feet.

Turns out, all she had needed to grow her own set of thorns was to be inducted into a pack of girlfriends. Led by Clarisse, of all people. He had done his due diligence to warn Alicia of her, so no doubt the former had reservations about his ex at first; she was crazy. Who the hell spent this much time socializing with the other girls he had dated?

If dumping him in middle of the hallway wasn't enough, both were culpable in the way his reputation had nosedived among the student population- he just knew, because one's image wasn't decided by the individual in question. It wasn't just among the girls too. While a couple of his male friends initially stuck around, they were learning one by one what staying by a social pariah did to their own standing in school.

The teachers couldn't care less because he was a pretty good student, but the ostracization got old. If he was to bear the rest of his high school career here, he needed a way for people to forget. Time, for the other students to become reabsorbed in their own lives.

_How can I do that?_

As he passed by a bulletin board, the brochures pinned on them fluttered. He stopped and studied them, and in his mind, a plan formed.

—

"Casper High?" His mother squinted at one of the crumpled papers she had picked up from the coffee table. Behind wire-frame glasses, her tired eyes flicked over the text. "Wherever in the world is that?"

On their couch next to her, he leaned into her and their shoulders touched. "Amity Park."

She repeated the name in a murmur. "Is that a city?"

"Yeah, Mom. In Illinois." At her hesitance, he pressed. "It'll look good on my portfolio. Colleges like it when we have experiences beyond where we came from."

"College?" Hope was written over her face when she turned to him. "You're intending to apply after all?"

_I am now_, he supposed. "Yeah. That's still a ways to go though, but no harm preparing early. So I wanted to run it by you." He gathered the papers, most of which were clipped together, and flipped through the paragraphs of information to arrive at the final page. One finger tapped at the bottom, where a dotted line lay.

A parent's signature.

It was the only thing he needed. His mother scanned the page, though she was reading it too quickly to have understood it completely. A phrase stood out from the print, and her face brightened. "You were nominated by the school?"

The truth was nobody else had applied for that position. Casper High wasn't a popular place, but it meant he had automatically received a nomination, but it wasn't a confirmation. That depended on today. He nodded.

"Even with hair like that?"

His hand ran through his freshly-bleached strands. He had gotten it done yesterday, in an impulse of desiring a fresh look. "Mom, that's- it's just a trend. It's normal nowadays." Her lips began to droop in disapproval, so he thought quickly, and added, "My teachers probably put in a good word for me. My semester's been going well so far."

It was enough to appease her. The pen was by her hand, laid on the table when he had first sat her down. She picked it up and poised the tip over the paper's surface. Satisfaction began to pool in Elliot's gut.

"If you get to college," she said, "your father would be so proud."

His first instinct was to snap, but he reigned it in. It wasn't what he needed right now. "I guess," he said.

"We just wanted you to do well in school." His mother smiled at him, one that showed teeth and deepened the wrinkles in the skin about her eyes. "Make friends, maybe find a girl you like."

"Mom." He forced a smile, trying to mirror her expression. _If only you knew._ "I'm doing great."

A laugh, and she scrawled her agreement on the form. _Finally_, he couldn't help but think, as she handed the paper to him, her signature in shiny, black ink.

"I know," she replied. In that moment, it was as if her fatigue had evaporated from her figure. "I'm so proud of you."

Just like that, Elliot submitted the form. A week later, the school got back to him with a confirmation letter, and the semester exchange to Amity, his one ticket out of the pits of his school, was his.


End file.
